Jane
by TracedScars
Summary: For the Kaytori Challenge. Veronica tells Becky of a painful memory that has been forever lodged into her mind. Dedicated to the victims of the Montreal Massacre.


Author's Note: Done for the Kaytori challenge. My heart goes out to all the women who perished. Oh, and my father downloaded a ton of stuff, so the computer has been slow. That's why I didn't get to submit this till later on.

* * *

"Could you explain to me why this is necessary?" Balthazar asked dryly. Veronica placed a hand on his arm; a warning not to say anything too rash.

"It is entirely necessary, Balthy," the blond said arrogantly, looking a little annoyed that he was being asked such a question. Dave stood next to him, sending Balthazar a pleading glance. However, despite his begging eyes, his expression of defiance was the same exact copy of Drake's. It irritated Balthazar, but he thought that Dave would be pulled into a mass of trouble.

"Do not call me Balthy," Balthazar said icily. Veronica held back a faint smile. He wished she wouldn't take something like this so lightly. And not only that, he hoped Veronica wouldn't start titling him as Balthy. He got chills at the thought.

"Sorry," Drake said, clearly not sorry. "But we _have _to go. It's the only time Dave is free from his physics and textbooks." He made a face at the word.

"And it's the only time Drake can go," Dave added sullenly. They were the evil twins, Balthazar decided.

"What about training?" Becky asked quietly. She had been listening from the sofa. She had been sitting there for quite a while, a book propped up against the sofa's arm. She had been studying for some sort of quiz. Balthazar didn't mind letting her stay.

"Um, I can skip it for once," Dave said, taken aback. He had not been planning to hear his girlfriend. Balthazar wondered what he would say now that Becky had spoken. Here he was, about to go off to some wild event with Drake.

"I can hear you," Drake said acidly. Looks like Balthazar had forgotten about the blond's mind tricks. "And it's not a wild event. It is a _poetry reading._"

"All this fuss over a poetry reading?" Veronica asked, raising her delicate eyebrows. "Goodness gracious, Balthazar. I thought they were speaking of a party."

"Like Dave parties," Becky mumbled under her breath, but there was a smile on her face.

"It's not the regular type of poetry reading," Balthazar said, glaring at the both of them. They sheepishly grinned at the same time. "It has curse words and talks of unnatural things; the sort of things not even a hormonal Maxim Horvath would have talked about. I've seen the poetry reading Drake has described."

"Now this is different. Why would you want to go to this kind of reading, David?" Veronica asked.

"I have to go," Dave said stubbornly. "It's my release of stress."

"You wouldn't understand," Drake sighed. Balthazar would have sworn if he had one, Drake would roll his eyes and fan himself dramatically.

Suddenly, Veronica said, "Let them go, Balthazar. You have to miss training anyways. You've got to meet a Merlinian friend. And I'll be watching Arcana Cabana."

Balthazar thought it over. Eventually, he came to a decision. "Fine," he muttered. "You two can go. But I better not hear any repeats of what those _poets_ said."

"Promise," Dave said enthusiastically. He and Drake fled Arcana Cabana.

"I'll go now," Balthazar said. "I don't want to keep Markus waiting."

"Tell him I said hello," Veronica said. "And to his wife as well."

"All right." He kissed Veronica on both cheeks, then pulled on his black coat. He gave her another kiss, received two himself, and left Arcana Cabana.

Veronica took the wet rag from the bin of water and wiped down the counter.

"You know," she said, "they aren't really going to a poetry reading."

Becky dropped the pencil she was holding. It fell to the floor. Confused, she asked, "What?"

Veronica smiled kindly and continued wiping. "I could tell they were not excited for poetry, but for something else. I've seen this kind of behavior before."

"Really?" The young girl was interested now. "Where are they going?"

"Somewhere besides a poetry reading. Possibly one of Drake Stone's shows. I recently heard him speaking on his cell phone about it. He has apparently been using Dave as an assistant, and Dave doesn't seem to mind."

"That explains him coming home late, and the glitter in his hair," Becky said, laughing despite herself.

"Yes, I imagine that would be a sight." Veronica chuckled to herself, then kept on with wiping. She frowned at one spot, which had a small coffee stain that didn't seem to want to come off. She dipped the rag back into the bin and lifted it. She was careful not to drip any of the water on the floor.

"Veronica?"

"Yes, dear?" She attacked the coffee spot with her rag.

"You said you've seen this type of behavior before. Can I ask where?"

Veronica frowned. "What do you mean, Becky?" But she knew what the girl meant.

"Er, it's just that you don't seem to have any kids. Did you tend to any boys in your village back then, or…?"

Veronica didn't touch or move the rag again. "Oh, Becky," she murmured.

"What? I didn't say anything that offended you, did I?"

"It's not that," she said. "It's just…I was reminded of a painful memory I would love to forget."

Becky's eyes widened. "I'm sorry, Veronica. I didn't know."

"It's…all right, I suppose. You didn't mean to."

Becky stood up from her seat on the sofa, and walked towards her. She didn't move as Becky placed her hand over hers. She felt the warmth and comfort come from this young child.

"Do you want to talk about it? Sometimes, speaking is the best way out."

She could not help but smile. What a sweet girl. No wonder David was so enamored with her. Veronica let Becky hold her hand. It felt nice to have such comfort. Such kindness. Balthazar would have done the same, kissed her and told her he would make her pain go away. But he didn't know what she knew. He could not help her with something he didn't know about.

"Speaking must be the correct way," Veronica said slowly. "As long as I have the right person."

She looked confused.

"Between us ladies," Veronica said, "I think that some things must be spoken with only women. Balthazar or Dave would never understand."

"And we know that Drake's head is an empty abyss."

"Ah, that's a tad rude…yet true," Veronica said. "Would you care to listen to my story?"

"Of course. I'm all ears."

Veronica began wiping again. She told Becky to go back to sitting on the sofa.

"I met a lovely young girl when I was twenty," Veronica said. "She was the sweetest thing. Only fifteen-years-old, yet she was like a star. So bright and wonderful. I thought everyone loved her. I doted and adored this girl. Her parents enjoyed their daughter's charms. She could captivate a snake, if she tried.

"Her name was Jane. Jane was a friend to have around, but to tell you the truth, Becky, she didn't have many companions. No one was drawn to her that way. Young boys wanted to be her boyfriend, parents wanted her as their child, the elderly wished she would always come around for tea, and the girls would have died to be her lady-in-waiting. But no one would be her friend. It is still difficult for me to understand why they wouldn't. It was just how things were.

"I came over one day. I had some sweets I wanted to drop off. It was nearing towards Christmas, and I already got Jane's parents gifts. And Jane herself, of course. When I entered their home, I saw her mother and father crying. I still remember the looks on their faces. Her mother was sobbing loudly. Her father was struggling not to cry, but a few tears escaped. He had this twisted expression upon his pale face… I had never seen them so devastated.

"I put the sweets on their table and asked them what was wrong. My hands were shaking. I tried to offer them tissues. Something that would help them. They told me that their daughter was gone. My face turned ashen. At first, I thought they meant she was missing. Kidnapped or she had run away from home.

"But then they told me what they really meant. Jane had come home with tears on her face. There was a mark upon her face. Her mother gave her ice, and asked her how she got such a mark. Jane said she tripped, but she cried much louder than necessary. They had a bad feeling she had hurt herself terribly. They wanted a doctor to come, but Jane said no. She didn't want a doctor. She just wanted to sleep.

"She went to her bedroom. Her parents needed to go to the market, but they did not want to leave her by herself, all alone. Jane urged them to go. She didn't need them to stay. They did go. When they came back, they found her dead. Jane's body was on the floor of her bedroom, bloody and bruised.

"I was so horrified to hear what happened. I asked them when they had found her. They said half an hour ago. Not only that, they had a letter on her bed. I was able to read it. It was from one of the girls in Jane's class. Alice Montgomery, I believe. She said that for quite some time, she saw that Jane had been bothered by a group of boys from the other town. Alice claimed that she didn't know what to do, because Jane told her to mind her own business. She had said it kindly.

"Then Alice had gone home after school. She had to past the woods. She had seen them hitting her. They were in the forest, and they kept on beating her. She ran to get help, but by the time she returned with some of the folks, they were gone. Jane was wearing a long cloak that covered the bruises. She lied to them and said they were just fooling around, and it had been an accident. Only the single mark on her cheek was shown.

"Alice said she wanted to tell Jane's parents. Then the boys came up to her when she was alone. She cried out as they slapped her. They made her swear not to tell anyone. Alice did. She was frightened. But it did not stop there. They took her to Jane's home. Jane was in her bedroom. They…did horrible things to her. They hurt her terribly. Alice could not look as they tortured Jane.

"When the boys were finished, they sneered at Alice. They told her to write a letter to Jane's parents. Tell them exactly what happened. Alice obliged. Again, it was due to fear. She wrote the letter, and placed it upon her bed. The boys told her to write down her own fate. Alice was horrified. She didn't want to die. That's what she put in her letter. The boys ordered her to write what they were saying. They wanted to drown her.

"The letter I read ended when Alice wrote her farewells. We never did learn what happened to Alice Montgomery. Jane's parents told me to turn the letter around. I did. I did not want to, but I felt compelled to listen to her parents.

"There were names on the back. With horror, I realized I knew these names. These were the names of young boys I knew. I had seen them sometimes, and they were quite the bunch. Rowdy and a bit violent, but somewhat pleasant. They were apprentices.

"I broke down and wept. I never cried like that before. And now you know, Rebecca."

She felt something wet slide down her cheek.

Becky preoccupied herself with picking up her pencil from the floor. Then, she stood up and went to Veronica.

Veronica understood a second too late that Beck was hugging her.

"Becky…I'm sorry I had to tell you that."

"No. I'm sorry for making you."

"You didn't. I told you of my own free will."

"You did," Becky admitted. "But I know that this Jane was a good girl. She must have been very afraid of them. I know that this was very emotional for you, but believe me. I know Jane went to a better place."

"Where is that, Rebecca?" Her voice sounded much more sharper than she thought it would be. She saw Becky wince, and felt bad.

Becky tried a different tact. "You kind of lied, Veronica. You said Jane didn't have a friend. But she did. She had more than one. She had her parents, who loved her and adored their daughter. She had Alice, who was brave enough to get people to help her. Jane had you, who came by to give her and her parents gifts for Christmas. She had people who cared about her."

"You're right." Her voice was stronger now. Veronica realized that young Becky was indeed right.

"You know, Veronica," Becky said, still hugging her. "I think those boys had a problem, whether it was personal or mental. But I know that they will die someday, as people always die. And something horrible will be waiting for them when they do. And Jane, she'll be up there with Alice, and they'll both be happy."

Veronica felt as if a huge amount of weight was lifted off her shoulders. "Oh, honey," she whispered. "I'm so glad I talked to you about this."

"It's okay. And don't be sad anymore. Jane was loved. And look at that! She's still in your memory as a fun, adorable, and wonderful child. And after all that time in the Grimhold and in this century, you're still able to remember her."

Veronica shut her eyes. "She reminds me of you. She was so kind."

"I know, Veronica.."

"She was the sweetest, little thing," Veronica sighed. "And she was loved."

"Yes," Becky said. She sounded pleased. "She was loved."

* * *

Dedicated to all the women who died, to people who were wounded, and those who have lost loved ones in the Montreal Massacre.

-**TracedScars**


End file.
